Alan Loewen's Blog, page 31
June 7, 2016
I Need Advice on Japanese Honorifics
I am in need of advice on the use of Japanese honorifics. So far, I've found the following: San, Sama, Kun, Chan, Bō, Senpai and kōhai, Sensei and hakase, Shi, Dono/tono, No kimi, Ue, Shōgō and I suspect there are dozens I am missing.
For first time visitors, I am writing a requested piece on a conflict between five Inari shrine maidens who are kitsune, defending their shrine against an invading body of Inugami. The working title is The Shrine War.
The structure of the kitsune shrine maidens is as follows: Sen is the head of them all determined by seniority (she is over 900 years old). Sen's commands are followed without question (though Chiyo may speak up and respectfully point out another option). Directly below her is Chiyo who is second-in-command and would succeed Sen if something ever happened to her. Kiku and Kuwa are twins, next in line and equal in status. At the bottom is young Hoso who is subservient to all.
The structure of the Inugami is they have a leader, Akumu, the unquestioned warlord of the pack of ten. The remaining nine are equals and totally subservient to Akumu who has a goddess-like status to them (though she is not).
If important, all characters are female.
Question: How would they address each other? How would they refer to each other in discussion when the other person was not present.
Any advice or insight would be greatly appreciated.
Oh! One last question. My human character, Brennan Woodbrygg, is an American and in the story will interact only with Sen and Hoso. He is aware that Sen is the authority in the shrine (it does not have a priest, only miko, i.e., shrine maidens), but is not clear on the status of Hoso though aware she is under Sen in authority. Though American, he is very sensitive to Japanese culture. How would he address these two?How would they address him? (Sen looks somewhat down on all humans, Hoso is awed by the first human she has ever seen.)
For first time visitors, I am writing a requested piece on a conflict between five Inari shrine maidens who are kitsune, defending their shrine against an invading body of Inugami. The working title is The Shrine War.
The structure of the kitsune shrine maidens is as follows: Sen is the head of them all determined by seniority (she is over 900 years old). Sen's commands are followed without question (though Chiyo may speak up and respectfully point out another option). Directly below her is Chiyo who is second-in-command and would succeed Sen if something ever happened to her. Kiku and Kuwa are twins, next in line and equal in status. At the bottom is young Hoso who is subservient to all.
The structure of the Inugami is they have a leader, Akumu, the unquestioned warlord of the pack of ten. The remaining nine are equals and totally subservient to Akumu who has a goddess-like status to them (though she is not).
If important, all characters are female.
Question: How would they address each other? How would they refer to each other in discussion when the other person was not present.
Any advice or insight would be greatly appreciated.
Oh! One last question. My human character, Brennan Woodbrygg, is an American and in the story will interact only with Sen and Hoso. He is aware that Sen is the authority in the shrine (it does not have a priest, only miko, i.e., shrine maidens), but is not clear on the status of Hoso though aware she is under Sen in authority. Though American, he is very sensitive to Japanese culture. How would he address these two?How would they address him? (Sen looks somewhat down on all humans, Hoso is awed by the first human she has ever seen.)
June 6, 2016
The Shrine War: A Progress Report
Currently only up to 2,570 words because of the amount of research needed to portray life realistically in a Japanese Shinto shrine. I find myself doing copious amounts of reading on shrine architecture, shrine maiden clothing, and other odds and ends to add a realistic dimension to the work.
On a Facebook group I run for writers of genre literature, I wrote:
On a Facebook group I run for writers of genre literature, I wrote:
To add historical credence to a present work in progress, I just spent over an hour trying to find the name of the brassier women wore in feudal Japan. Does that make me a writer or simply barking insane? It's called a sarashi by the way.Fortunately, I have been a huge fan of eastern cinema and watched enough Japanese samurai films to add some interesting scenes, but this segment that takes place after the Inugami envoy leaves after making some brutal and impossible demands to the shrine kitsune still took me a good hour to craft:
Chiyo nodded, her jaw tight and her eyes grim. “They will not obtain the mirror, sister. Not tonight. Not ever.” She reached into the left sleeve of her haori and pulled out a folded fan. With a flick of her wrist, it sprang open with a metallic whisper to reveal itself as a Japanese war fan, it’s edge honed to razor sharpness. “I have not used my tessen in years past counting, but should the dogs attempt to enter the honden…” Chiyo spun the fan in her furred fingers, its deadly edge splitting the air with a fearsome hiss and blurring from the speed of its movement as she expertly guided it through a simple exercise. In her left hand, her prayer beads began to glow with a dull azure light, Then with a sudden movement she flicked the fan closed with a sharp click and the prayer beads immediately once again took on the appearance of simple tiny ceramic and wooden balls strung on a hempen cord. Chiyo slid her tessen back up her sleeve.
With dignity, the sisters bowed to each other and Chiyo left Sen standing alone in the hoiden.I'm glad the deadline for the work is October. It may actually take me that long.
Why I'm Happy Just To Write To Entertain
My official bio says:
Loewen also makes no bones about his writing: he writes solely to entertain, his first desire to be a storyteller. If the reader discovers some great universal truth in a Loewen-crafted tale, that's icing on the cake, but as Loewen has said, "I want my readers simply to enjoy themselves in a story of my own creation. If they feel their time has not been wasted and they liked the story, I have achieved my primary goal."It appears that somebody agrees with me.
June 3, 2016
June 1, 2016
The Shrine War: Opening Scene
What follows is a rough draft of the opening scene of a story I am currently writing for an anthology for editor Fred Patten. I have never been to Japan and I have never been to a Shinto shrine. I regret I have never met a kitsune and I am rather certain I will go to my grave never having had the pleasure.
But this is the enjoyment of writing fantasy: to communicate exotic pictures to the reader's imagination using only the power of the written word. I do hope I dance close to succeeding. Please remember that this is a rough draft and everything is subject to change.
The Shrine Warby Alan LoewenALL RIGHTS RESERVED
“Ane? The sisters have gathered in the haiden as you have ordered.” In the dim light before dawn, an observer would have made out the form of two young women, both wearing the traditional garb of a Shinto shrine maiden: long, red skirts tied with a bow, a white kimono jacket, and white hair ribbons tying back the long, waxed hair.
“Well done, Hoso. Arigato.” For a moment, the two watched the rising sun illuminate the horizon beyond Mount Tomuraushi. Together they watched the sunlight illuminate the mountain’s summit and then slowly creep down its sides, making what little mid-summer snow remained glow with a brilliant radiance that competed with the green of small hardy bushes and wildflowers.
As the gloom dissipated in the growing glow of morning, sunlight reflected back from eyes that were completely brown and a fitting shade and shape to match the fox-like faces of the pair.
“You enjoy watching the sunrise, do you not?” Hoso asked.
Ane remained silent for a moment and Hoso wondered if she had been heard, but after a pause her superior slowly nodded her head. “If the weather allows, I have not missed a sunrise in over five centuries.”
For a moment, Hoso stared with envy at Ane’s nine tails, one for each century of her life and the final number a kitsune could attain. For a moment and not for the first time, Hoso regretted her youth. Only two tails emerged from a cleverly designed slit in the back of her skirt and Hoso had seven more centuries to go before she could enjoy Ane’s status and glory.
In sudden shame of her jealousy, Hoso impulsively bowed to Ane, her furred hands with their dainty claws sliding down the front of her thighs as she bowed deeply in respect. “We will await you, Ane, but I humbly ask that you not tarry. The Inugami emissary will be here shortly.” With that, she turned and left.
Ane watched as the fully risen sun turned Mount Tomuraushi into a brilliant and shining beacon and she dimly wondered if today would be her last opportunity to revel in the gift of a new day. She turned to see the sun gleaming off the red tiled roof of the hodon, the Shinto equivalent of the Holy of Holies where Inari's mirror stood in glory and splendor, primal and serene. In front of the hodon with its protective bamboo wall, stood the oratory, the haiden where her sisters waited. All around her, the peace of the shrine lay inviolate, but, Ane feared, it would not be so for long. The Inugami were coming. With a shake of her head, she turned to walk up the tiled sandō to join her sisters in the haiden.
But this is the enjoyment of writing fantasy: to communicate exotic pictures to the reader's imagination using only the power of the written word. I do hope I dance close to succeeding. Please remember that this is a rough draft and everything is subject to change.
The Shrine Warby Alan LoewenALL RIGHTS RESERVED
“Ane? The sisters have gathered in the haiden as you have ordered.” In the dim light before dawn, an observer would have made out the form of two young women, both wearing the traditional garb of a Shinto shrine maiden: long, red skirts tied with a bow, a white kimono jacket, and white hair ribbons tying back the long, waxed hair.
“Well done, Hoso. Arigato.” For a moment, the two watched the rising sun illuminate the horizon beyond Mount Tomuraushi. Together they watched the sunlight illuminate the mountain’s summit and then slowly creep down its sides, making what little mid-summer snow remained glow with a brilliant radiance that competed with the green of small hardy bushes and wildflowers.
As the gloom dissipated in the growing glow of morning, sunlight reflected back from eyes that were completely brown and a fitting shade and shape to match the fox-like faces of the pair.
“You enjoy watching the sunrise, do you not?” Hoso asked.
Ane remained silent for a moment and Hoso wondered if she had been heard, but after a pause her superior slowly nodded her head. “If the weather allows, I have not missed a sunrise in over five centuries.”
For a moment, Hoso stared with envy at Ane’s nine tails, one for each century of her life and the final number a kitsune could attain. For a moment and not for the first time, Hoso regretted her youth. Only two tails emerged from a cleverly designed slit in the back of her skirt and Hoso had seven more centuries to go before she could enjoy Ane’s status and glory.
In sudden shame of her jealousy, Hoso impulsively bowed to Ane, her furred hands with their dainty claws sliding down the front of her thighs as she bowed deeply in respect. “We will await you, Ane, but I humbly ask that you not tarry. The Inugami emissary will be here shortly.” With that, she turned and left.
Ane watched as the fully risen sun turned Mount Tomuraushi into a brilliant and shining beacon and she dimly wondered if today would be her last opportunity to revel in the gift of a new day. She turned to see the sun gleaming off the red tiled roof of the hodon, the Shinto equivalent of the Holy of Holies where Inari's mirror stood in glory and splendor, primal and serene. In front of the hodon with its protective bamboo wall, stood the oratory, the haiden where her sisters waited. All around her, the peace of the shrine lay inviolate, but, Ane feared, it would not be so for long. The Inugami were coming. With a shake of her head, she turned to walk up the tiled sandō to join her sisters in the haiden.
May 30, 2016
The Shrine War Update
Have some updates on my new work in progress:
The working title has been changed from Kitsune vs. Inugami to The Shrine War.I posted a very rough cut of the opening scene, but because the emphasis is to be on the Kitsune and Inugami, I have opted for a new opening with the Kitsune having a war council at their shrine and preparing to receive an emissary from the Inugami. In the story, Kitsune are anthropomorphic foxes and the Inugami are anthropomorphic dogs (nice foxies vs. bad doggies). In the story, they can trick the human mind to perceive them as fully human, but it's not true transformation. If they were to extend their hand to you, visually you would see a human hand, but to your sense of touch you would feel the fur. In the illusion they project, they have no tails, but if they were to suddenly turn around, you could get whacked by a tail you could not see. And as Ane, the head shrine maiden, has nine tails, you could find yourself on the floor without a clue as to how you ended up there.Trying to find a picture of an anthropomorphic Kitsune and Inugami shrine maidens for reference is almost impossible. Either they appear way too human (basically human girls with fox ears and tails) or the picture is not historical. I did find one for the Kitsune. The artist's name is Koggg (that is not a typo) and his art account is here. Anyway, this is a great representation of my Kitsune shrine maidens without the human illusion in place:
As for the Inugami, it took me the better part of two hours, but I found one that captures the spirit of what I'm trying to communicate. I did not want werewolves but anthropomorphic dogs, ones that are committed to the Black Arts and the destruction of all Kitsune and Imari, the kami the Kitsune follow. The artist of the piece below calls him/herself YUS-TS:
One of the delightful challenges of writing fantasy is finding the best way to communicate the exotic to the reader. Without the use of visual aids, I need to find the right combination of words, written simply and succinctly, so that what you visually see above, you can see in your mind's eye just by using the written word alone.
We shall see if I am up to the challenge.
The working title has been changed from Kitsune vs. Inugami to The Shrine War.I posted a very rough cut of the opening scene, but because the emphasis is to be on the Kitsune and Inugami, I have opted for a new opening with the Kitsune having a war council at their shrine and preparing to receive an emissary from the Inugami. In the story, Kitsune are anthropomorphic foxes and the Inugami are anthropomorphic dogs (nice foxies vs. bad doggies). In the story, they can trick the human mind to perceive them as fully human, but it's not true transformation. If they were to extend their hand to you, visually you would see a human hand, but to your sense of touch you would feel the fur. In the illusion they project, they have no tails, but if they were to suddenly turn around, you could get whacked by a tail you could not see. And as Ane, the head shrine maiden, has nine tails, you could find yourself on the floor without a clue as to how you ended up there.Trying to find a picture of an anthropomorphic Kitsune and Inugami shrine maidens for reference is almost impossible. Either they appear way too human (basically human girls with fox ears and tails) or the picture is not historical. I did find one for the Kitsune. The artist's name is Koggg (that is not a typo) and his art account is here. Anyway, this is a great representation of my Kitsune shrine maidens without the human illusion in place:
As for the Inugami, it took me the better part of two hours, but I found one that captures the spirit of what I'm trying to communicate. I did not want werewolves but anthropomorphic dogs, ones that are committed to the Black Arts and the destruction of all Kitsune and Imari, the kami the Kitsune follow. The artist of the piece below calls him/herself YUS-TS:
One of the delightful challenges of writing fantasy is finding the best way to communicate the exotic to the reader. Without the use of visual aids, I need to find the right combination of words, written simply and succinctly, so that what you visually see above, you can see in your mind's eye just by using the written word alone.
We shall see if I am up to the challenge.
Kitsune vs. Inugami Intro
Ever try writing about a place you've never been to? The research that went into the following took three days. Three days for a tad over 375 words.
Untitled Story
by Alan LoewenALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Brennan Woodbrygg slid the dish of lavender ice cream across the table. Around him, people chattered gaily in Japanese enjoying the open air cafe. The town of Kamifurano reeked of lavender as the locals and visitors celebrated the middle of the growing season and not only did the scent of lavender fill the air, everybody ate lavender ice cream and drank lavender-flavored beverages.
For Brennan, though he loved the exotic, he could find little appreciation of an entire town reeking of a lady’s boudoir.
His cell phone buzzed and he picked it up from the table top and flipped it open.
“Brennan here,” he said.
He listened for a few moments, thoughtfully chewing on both his bottom lip and his thoughts.
“I know, Alyssa” he said, his tone hinting at an air of impatience and irritation. “I already know the grant money is gone, but I’m on a great lead. I’ll pay for the expenses from here on out on my own and you purchased the return flight for me when you ordered the tickets and that’s the biggest expense so far and already taken care of.” He looked around to see if his English had attracted any attention, but conversations around the cafe had drowned out any ability to hear him.
“I’m on Hokkaido in the Kamikawa District. The town is Kamifurano. You’d really enjoy it here. Smells like that perfume you love so much. Alyssa listen to me.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I think I have a lead on an Inari shrine near here that predates the 5th century. Yeah, well before Buddhism came to the islands. It’s in a forest near Mount Tomuraushi and it’s not even listed with the Jinja Honcho.”
He paused as Alyssa’s voice buzzed in his ear. “Okay, tell you what. I’ll wrap everything up with this trip. I’ll get some great pictures and you’ll get your book and I’ll complete my thesis, deal?
Again, he paused as he listened. “Okay and one other thing. I won’t have cell phone access at the mountain. I barely have coverage here. Yeah, I’ll call you tomorrow sometime. Bye.”
He flipped his cell phone closed, stared at his melting lavender-flavored ice cream and decided that the 300 yen was a suitable price to pay for just a taste.
ADDENDUM: Though I love this part, I realized this would make a terrible intro to the story. The emphasis is on the conflict between the Kitsune and the Inugami so I'm changing the introductory scene and starting right with the Kitsune at the Inari Shrine preparing for an invasion of Inugami and meeting with their representative. Then, I segue into this part of the story introducing Brennan Woodbrygg.
Untitled Story
by Alan LoewenALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Brennan Woodbrygg slid the dish of lavender ice cream across the table. Around him, people chattered gaily in Japanese enjoying the open air cafe. The town of Kamifurano reeked of lavender as the locals and visitors celebrated the middle of the growing season and not only did the scent of lavender fill the air, everybody ate lavender ice cream and drank lavender-flavored beverages.
For Brennan, though he loved the exotic, he could find little appreciation of an entire town reeking of a lady’s boudoir.
His cell phone buzzed and he picked it up from the table top and flipped it open.
“Brennan here,” he said.
He listened for a few moments, thoughtfully chewing on both his bottom lip and his thoughts.
“I know, Alyssa” he said, his tone hinting at an air of impatience and irritation. “I already know the grant money is gone, but I’m on a great lead. I’ll pay for the expenses from here on out on my own and you purchased the return flight for me when you ordered the tickets and that’s the biggest expense so far and already taken care of.” He looked around to see if his English had attracted any attention, but conversations around the cafe had drowned out any ability to hear him.
“I’m on Hokkaido in the Kamikawa District. The town is Kamifurano. You’d really enjoy it here. Smells like that perfume you love so much. Alyssa listen to me.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I think I have a lead on an Inari shrine near here that predates the 5th century. Yeah, well before Buddhism came to the islands. It’s in a forest near Mount Tomuraushi and it’s not even listed with the Jinja Honcho.”
He paused as Alyssa’s voice buzzed in his ear. “Okay, tell you what. I’ll wrap everything up with this trip. I’ll get some great pictures and you’ll get your book and I’ll complete my thesis, deal?
Again, he paused as he listened. “Okay and one other thing. I won’t have cell phone access at the mountain. I barely have coverage here. Yeah, I’ll call you tomorrow sometime. Bye.”
He flipped his cell phone closed, stared at his melting lavender-flavored ice cream and decided that the 300 yen was a suitable price to pay for just a taste.
May 28, 2016
Kitsune vs. Inugami Story
Kitsune (artist unknown)
Inugami (Artist: よっしー) I announced my foray into Mirthstone Hall a tad prematurely as I have been approached by an anthologist to submit a story to his upcoming collection. After discussion, I will be writing a story of kitsune shrine maidens guarding a Shinto shrine against a band of invading Inugami shrine maidens. If you are confused by such strange names and words, click on the links, but they are all characters from Japanese mythology.
May 26, 2016
Mirthstone Hall: A Work In Progress
My seminal work, Coventry House, (available for sale here and here) is the tale of a magical house with even more magical inhabitants. Years later, another magical house tale joined the ranks of my published stories and Yew Manor is available for sale only here.
I have threatened for years that I was going to release a trilogy of magical house stories and the time has come. Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce my next magical house novella:
Like Coventry House and Yew Manor, Mirthstone Hall has anthropomorphic characters interacting with humans, a huge sprawling mansion that is a character in its own right, and, hold on to your knickers, I've based the plot on the trope of a Japanese harem anime (and no worries, I'm keeping it clean). Mirthstone Hall is the working title and is subject to change.
Here is a rough, unedited sample of the opening paragraphs:
Mirthstone Hallby Alan Loewen
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Thomas Davin watched the scenery outside the taxi window as it sped by to his new home. His curiosity, inspired by the novelty of being far from Colorado and traveling through the never before seen landscape of south-central Pennsylvania, lay muted under own his personal sorrow.
The taxi driver tapped on the GPS adhering to his windshield. “I’ll have you at your destination is less than an hour.” The driver was an affable fellow and chatted away, a very different demeanor from the more sullen and business-like taxi drivers of Colorado Springs. “So, you’re staying the summer with your uncle?”
“Yes,” was Thomas’s sole response. He didn’t feel like opening up to a stranger to tell him he had never met his Uncle Brennan. In fact, in his near seventeen years, his mother had never mentioned her older brother before. Not until Thomas’ father had passed away from a disease so rare that the doctors needed almost a full year to diagnose it. Not until his mother remarried a mere three months later to one of the most self-centered and selfish men Thomas had ever endured.
So to keep peace with the family, his mother had called her older brother that Thomas never knew existed, and asked Uncle Brennan to take her only child in for the summer so she could begin her new married life with some modicum of peace.
Thomas suddenly realized he had his hands clenched in fists again. He took a deep breath and forced them to relax.
Once again he turned his attention to the view speeding past the taxi window. The mid-May sunshine made everything so green, a color not as vibrant in Colorado Springs. He passed by plowed fields and farmlands with barns and old windmills. Tall silos stood like sentries over large farmhouses.
Thomas had seen the green landscape from the plane window as it settled in for the approach to Harrisburg International Airport, but to see it now this close made everything look more alive than he felt inside.
Thomas’ jaw suddenly dropped. “There’s a man over there plowing a field with horses!” he said.
The taxi driver laughed. “You’re in Lancaster County home to the Amish and old-order Mennonites. Most of them refuse to use modern stuff. Most don’t even have running water or electricity or even phones. They like it that way.”
Thomas felt a momentary wave of panic. Could his Uncle Brennan be one of these odd people? Thomas loved his Internet and his cell phone and once again the idea of just running away loomed in his thoughts. He sat back in his seat, ignoring the scenery outside and chewed over his thoughts.
And some minutes later they were interrupted by the taxi driver’s GPS announcing, “Arriving at your destination in two miles.” Thomas jerked his head up to see they were traveling through woods, trees surrounding both sides of the road.
There were no forests in Colorado Springs. Suddenly, the driver hit his brakes and Thomas heard him lay on the horn. Through the windshield, a panicked herd of deer sped across the road and in seconds all that was visible were white tails disappearing through the shadows under the trees.
“Gotta be careful,” the driver grumbled. “You hit one of them, and your car’s out of commision for awhile.”
His curiosity renewed by the sight of the forest, Thomas saw that no other houses were visible. When they finally came upon large open iron gate Thomas could see on the stone walls to the right of the gate a brass plaque green with age. The name, Mirthstone Hall, was barely legible.
The driver turned onto the lane that led past the entrance.
The lane barely had enough room for two cars to pass one another, but on this side of the gate, the woods appeared more open and wildflowers peeked through the mould.
Yet 100 yards past the entrance, the forest line ended sharply at a well manicured lawn and both the driver and Thomas made sounds of surprise as they saw Mirthstone Hall for the first time.
“I never knew we had houses like that here in Lancaster County,” the driver mumbled.
A mass of turrets, pinnacles and gables loomed over the front terrace. The facade was all Gothic windows, Tudor oriels, chimneys and attic dormers and the brown plaster stained with patches of red lichen gave the building an appearance of severe solemnity.
Thomas felt panic swell up in his chest.
Note: The picture for Mirthstone Hall is an etching of Tyntesfield (1866) and is in the public domain.
I have threatened for years that I was going to release a trilogy of magical house stories and the time has come. Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce my next magical house novella:
Like Coventry House and Yew Manor, Mirthstone Hall has anthropomorphic characters interacting with humans, a huge sprawling mansion that is a character in its own right, and, hold on to your knickers, I've based the plot on the trope of a Japanese harem anime (and no worries, I'm keeping it clean). Mirthstone Hall is the working title and is subject to change.
Here is a rough, unedited sample of the opening paragraphs:
Mirthstone Hallby Alan Loewen
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Thomas Davin watched the scenery outside the taxi window as it sped by to his new home. His curiosity, inspired by the novelty of being far from Colorado and traveling through the never before seen landscape of south-central Pennsylvania, lay muted under own his personal sorrow.
The taxi driver tapped on the GPS adhering to his windshield. “I’ll have you at your destination is less than an hour.” The driver was an affable fellow and chatted away, a very different demeanor from the more sullen and business-like taxi drivers of Colorado Springs. “So, you’re staying the summer with your uncle?”
“Yes,” was Thomas’s sole response. He didn’t feel like opening up to a stranger to tell him he had never met his Uncle Brennan. In fact, in his near seventeen years, his mother had never mentioned her older brother before. Not until Thomas’ father had passed away from a disease so rare that the doctors needed almost a full year to diagnose it. Not until his mother remarried a mere three months later to one of the most self-centered and selfish men Thomas had ever endured.
So to keep peace with the family, his mother had called her older brother that Thomas never knew existed, and asked Uncle Brennan to take her only child in for the summer so she could begin her new married life with some modicum of peace.
Thomas suddenly realized he had his hands clenched in fists again. He took a deep breath and forced them to relax.
Once again he turned his attention to the view speeding past the taxi window. The mid-May sunshine made everything so green, a color not as vibrant in Colorado Springs. He passed by plowed fields and farmlands with barns and old windmills. Tall silos stood like sentries over large farmhouses.
Thomas had seen the green landscape from the plane window as it settled in for the approach to Harrisburg International Airport, but to see it now this close made everything look more alive than he felt inside.
Thomas’ jaw suddenly dropped. “There’s a man over there plowing a field with horses!” he said.
The taxi driver laughed. “You’re in Lancaster County home to the Amish and old-order Mennonites. Most of them refuse to use modern stuff. Most don’t even have running water or electricity or even phones. They like it that way.”
Thomas felt a momentary wave of panic. Could his Uncle Brennan be one of these odd people? Thomas loved his Internet and his cell phone and once again the idea of just running away loomed in his thoughts. He sat back in his seat, ignoring the scenery outside and chewed over his thoughts.
And some minutes later they were interrupted by the taxi driver’s GPS announcing, “Arriving at your destination in two miles.” Thomas jerked his head up to see they were traveling through woods, trees surrounding both sides of the road.
There were no forests in Colorado Springs. Suddenly, the driver hit his brakes and Thomas heard him lay on the horn. Through the windshield, a panicked herd of deer sped across the road and in seconds all that was visible were white tails disappearing through the shadows under the trees.
“Gotta be careful,” the driver grumbled. “You hit one of them, and your car’s out of commision for awhile.”
His curiosity renewed by the sight of the forest, Thomas saw that no other houses were visible. When they finally came upon large open iron gate Thomas could see on the stone walls to the right of the gate a brass plaque green with age. The name, Mirthstone Hall, was barely legible.
The driver turned onto the lane that led past the entrance.
The lane barely had enough room for two cars to pass one another, but on this side of the gate, the woods appeared more open and wildflowers peeked through the mould.
Yet 100 yards past the entrance, the forest line ended sharply at a well manicured lawn and both the driver and Thomas made sounds of surprise as they saw Mirthstone Hall for the first time.
“I never knew we had houses like that here in Lancaster County,” the driver mumbled.
A mass of turrets, pinnacles and gables loomed over the front terrace. The facade was all Gothic windows, Tudor oriels, chimneys and attic dormers and the brown plaster stained with patches of red lichen gave the building an appearance of severe solemnity.
Thomas felt panic swell up in his chest.
Note: The picture for Mirthstone Hall is an etching of Tyntesfield (1866) and is in the public domain.
May 23, 2016
Would You Consider Using Your Computer For A Good Cause?
As a number of my followers and fans know, I'm a huge supporter of space exploration and years ago I was introduced to the SETI program and there was an opportunity to allow them to use your personal computer during its downtime to crunch data looking for radio signals from distant stars. I was a member for about a year, but my Internet speed at that time was dismal (in fact my home account still crawls) and with computer problems, I reluctantly left the program after a year of data crunching.
Some weeks ago, having a faster computer and Internet connection at my place of work, I looked up the old SETI program to see what new news they had.
I was delighted to read they are part of a much larger organization: The Berkeley Open Infrastructure for Network Computing (BOINC), that supports volunteer and grid computing not only for the original SETI@home project, but now as a platform for other areas as diverse as mathematics, linguistics, medicine, molecular biology, climatology, environmental science, and astrophysics.
On May 16th, I joined MilkyWay@Home that uses volunteer computers to create a 3D map of the Carina–Sagittarius Arm of the galaxy we call home. Since then, as of this morning, in my computer's downtime, it has contributed 26.69 quadrillion floating-point operations to the MilkyWay@Home project.
Not bad work for a mouth-breathing, knuckle-dragging, Bible thumper who writes dark fantasy romances with a body count.
I also joined a team of 60 people that are working together for the project and as of this morning, I had jumped up to #33 for most processing done.
It's a lot of fun and no, I do not get paid. The only satisfaction is knowing I am helping build a 3D model of the galaxy which piques my interest.
If you would like to do something similar, the process is very simple:
Go to the BOINC website.Choose a project from the list of 39 projects.Download the software.Register for an account.Run the software and watch it crunch data that adds invaluable information to various worlds of science. Who knows? It might be your computer that crunches the final data that finds our interstellar neighbors, comes up with a cure for malaria, makes breakthrough in climate study, or finds the asteroid that causes the next great extinction event!
Some weeks ago, having a faster computer and Internet connection at my place of work, I looked up the old SETI program to see what new news they had.
I was delighted to read they are part of a much larger organization: The Berkeley Open Infrastructure for Network Computing (BOINC), that supports volunteer and grid computing not only for the original SETI@home project, but now as a platform for other areas as diverse as mathematics, linguistics, medicine, molecular biology, climatology, environmental science, and astrophysics.
On May 16th, I joined MilkyWay@Home that uses volunteer computers to create a 3D map of the Carina–Sagittarius Arm of the galaxy we call home. Since then, as of this morning, in my computer's downtime, it has contributed 26.69 quadrillion floating-point operations to the MilkyWay@Home project.
Not bad work for a mouth-breathing, knuckle-dragging, Bible thumper who writes dark fantasy romances with a body count.I also joined a team of 60 people that are working together for the project and as of this morning, I had jumped up to #33 for most processing done.
It's a lot of fun and no, I do not get paid. The only satisfaction is knowing I am helping build a 3D model of the galaxy which piques my interest.
If you would like to do something similar, the process is very simple:
Go to the BOINC website.Choose a project from the list of 39 projects.Download the software.Register for an account.Run the software and watch it crunch data that adds invaluable information to various worlds of science. Who knows? It might be your computer that crunches the final data that finds our interstellar neighbors, comes up with a cure for malaria, makes breakthrough in climate study, or finds the asteroid that causes the next great extinction event!
